Page 41 of Dearest Beast
He was going to marry Leone Teres. He would be faithful to her. As he’d been with Lucy. Because he could control himself.
How to explain that, especially to a young man who saw him as an erudite mentor, not a… fucking schmuck. Roger took another deep breath.
“We’re certainly not friends,” he explained. “If not for this, we’d truly have no reason to be near each other. And it is very clear that she finds me…” He bit his lip, searching for the correct description of the woman’s opinion of his person. “Arrogant, shallow, prejudiced, and overly monied, I suppose.”
Sol’s lip twitched. He cleared his throat. “You’re an asset to the community.”
Roger burst out laughing. “Don’t attempt diplomacy,” he told the other man. “But I thank you for being kind enough not to outright agree.”
“Naturally,” Sol said with another grin. “It’s why I’m so popular.”
“I have no comments to make in that regard,” Roger said, withholding the quip that was on his tongue. “Anyway, Miss Adler is clever but incorrect, as I’m rightly confident in my abilities. I’m private and thus aim to reveal as little as necessary of myself wheneverpossible to protect both the family and the community. I use the good judgment I possess to correctly analyze situations.”
His friend nodded along thoughtfully. “So you’re merely ‘overly monied’?”
“Better to have too much than not enough.” Roger shrugged. “That’s usually how we survive.” Unless the gentiles’ internal troubles were so insurmountable an outlet was required. Though at times a ransom could be paid for their lives. Fortuitous when possible, for fleeing was not cheap. Hence his family’s forced conversion over three hundred years ago and the century they’d spent living not as themselves before they could escape.
“Except those times when they decided we had too much,” Sol pointed out, breaking his thoughts. “Over the centuries, they’ve become quite good at taking and killing at the same time.”
“True,” Roger conceded. “Which is where my expertise comes in.” He raised a finger so Sol would pay attention. The lesson was necessary for them all. “As my late mother used to say, ‘wealth never looks more grotesque than on a Jew.’ So while the ton’s grandeur dazzles the imagination and brings pride, the same on us can cause outrage. Thus, we can never appear, at a minimum, to have more than the corresponding gentiles of our class—really, one or two classes below—or disaster shall surely follow.” Something the Teres family likely also knew well. Which was why he and the daughter would suit. Just like he and Lucy suited.
His friend tapped his lip, as if considering. “Wise and valid points,” he proclaimed.
“But?” Roger asked, raising a brow. “There is a ‘but’?”
Sol pursed his lips. “But the situation is only valid if the gentiles don’t strain too much at the bonds of their own distinctions.” He scooted forward in his chair. “When that happens, when their entire system is at war…”
“We’re eventually sacrificed to keep the peace,” Roger finished. Yes, that history existed, especially for the Ashkenazis. “That’s when we flee. At the first sign, and until then, we preserve the most favorable equilibrium.”
“A judicious strategy,” his friend said finally.
“Very,” Roger said, smiling a little. “Which is why it’s such a shame a woman as intelligent as Miss Adler doesn’t appreciate it, or me.”
“Yes, intelligent people can have their prejudices,” his friend said, his eyes sparkling. “Or should I say ‘good judgment.’ ”
“ ‘Good’ is in the eye of the beholder,” Roger retorted with a smile of his own, which was rewarded with a laugh.
“I should be getting back to Hannah.” Sol rose, and Roger followed, rounding his desk.
“I’ll walk you out,” he told his friend.
“Are you taking her to your brother’s for Shabbos?” Sol asked as they moved down the hall.
“She declined last week. Both Friday night and Saturday morning,” Roger explained. “Her loss, as his cook’s dafina is the best.”
“I most certainly remember,” Sol said. “You should let Miss Adler know that I’m hoping to be there, along with Hannah and my sister-in-law. If she appears, Isabelle and Aaron might even leave their guests long enough to say hello.”
Roger nearly choked.
“He’s a good man,” Sol argued. “You should give him a chance.”
Like hell.
“So he and his cronies can overthrow my family?” Roger asked, this time the irritation creeping into his voice.
“I thought we hadn’t had a monarchy in almost eighteen hundred years. And I don’t remember the last one being considered particularly successful,” his friend joked.
However, Roger was no longer in the mood. “You know what I mean,” he said.
